-=I own nothing from the Harry Potter books, which will live on ad infinitum, mine are ad hoc fun.=-

The War Won't Stop

Things were not right in Harry Potter's World. Following the war when everyone was burgeoning with love and happiness, Harry Potter, now alone in the world, was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress.

At the slightest noise Harry would pull out his wand firing stunners at anything that moved. The telephone had been stunned so many times that it was a miracle the thing still worked. Other times he was afraid to leave his house. Hermione was most alarmed in the moments when Harry would flinch and struggle yelling and screaming against no one. Sometimes he had flashbacks of the Cruciatus curse. She, still had those. Then there were the nightmares. Ron and Hermione were often woke up in the middle of the night by sobbing Harry who just wanted it to stop.

Visiting Harry had become hazardous. Hermione had been stunned several times only to wake bound with a wide-eyed Harry standing over her accusing her of being a Deatheater in disguise. His other friends stopped visiting. Afraid of being attacked, no doubt. Hermione knew Harry didn't have anyone he could count on. For as deep as Ron and Harry's friendship was, even Ron couldn't deal with it anymore. This caused a huge fight between Ron and Hermione. Ron felt Hermione cared more about Harry than him. They were supposed to be friends weren't they? And friendship matters more than anything. This effectively removed the little chance they might have had to make it work. Good riddance.

That's when Hermione finally took action."We all want to see you get the help you need." Hermione was sad but resolved. "It's in your best interest to stay here so you can get help from trained healers." Harry couldn't respond through the sobbing, and Hermione really couldn't blame him. The man had been killed twice for all intents and purposes.

Despite the therapy and potions it quickly became apparent that Harry wasn't getting any better. She had consulted doctors and healers, but nothing seemed to make any difference. At her wits end she went to see Snape, who despite his war effort was the last man she wanted to talk to.

Waiting on the gloomy stoop at his house on Spinner's End. Hermione despaired that the cursed man would ever answer the door.

The door creaked open on rusty hinges. "Yes," he drawled.

"It would be more polite to invite me in," she said. He let her in but not without sneering.

"Sit if you must." Snape resumed his seat in a dilapidated armchair.

Hermione sat on the very edge of the sofa not wanting him to think she was there for the pleasure of his company. She got straight to the point, "I'd appreciate it if you'd help me with Harry."

Snape in question held up the Daily Prophet. On the front page was a picture of an intense-looking Harry brandishing a quill like a wand. Heading the picture was the legend; The Boy Who Is Barking Mad.

"So are you going to help me?" Hermione was angry.

"Going to Potter's rescue Ms. Granger? Heard about your falling out with Mr. Weasley in the gutter presses." Snape smirked satisfied.

Not dignifying that, "I'll help Harry any way I can. He needs help."

"Clearly." Putting the paper absently aside and folded his hands. "Can't come to see me for my own sake, only Potter's?"

Hermione cocked an eyebrow at that. "Like you'd want me to come under any circumstances."

Looking distinctly Slytherin, Snape refolded his hands. "Well Ms. Granger you are a woman. I am sure I could find some use for you."

Hermione's expression was one of absolute disgust. "I'll take that as a definite 'NO,' and so will you." She rose.

Before her hand closed on the door knob Snape spoke silkily. "I'm a Slytherin you know. We all have a price. If you care to negotiate, I'm sure we can come up with something."

Hermione's anger doubled. "Whatever your twisted mind comes up with will likely be out of the question, so don't waste my time."

"Even if were to help Dear Harry? Gryffindors are a noble lot, or so I'm told." He wanted to outrage Hermione and it seemed to be working.

"You can't make any guarantees that whatever is tried will even work." Hermione accused.

Snape shrugged, "There are no guarantees in life Ms. Granger. Surely, that can't have escaped your attention. On the other hand I can make certain conditional promises. I'm very good with keeping promises and-secrets." Severus said.

Still standing at the door, Hermione rested her curled fists on her hips. "I'm not that kind of girl and you know it."

Snape's lips parted long enough for her to see him run his tongue over his yellow crooked teeth. "I know, that's the best part."